


Catch You Unaware

by Tangerine



Category: Samurai Champloo
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:03:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/pseuds/Tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mugen catches Jin unaware.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch You Unaware

Mugen caught him with his guard down, which shouldn't have surprised him, but did. 

Jin had foolishly assumed that a hushed conversation between them as Fuu slept mere inches away had been the end of it. It had been the first time Mugen seemed to actually _hear_ him as opposed to just listening to him, which Mugen usually only did to get people off his back. Mugen rarely heard anybody, because Mugen did things Mugen's way, and that was that.

One painful speech later, which didn't hurt his head nearly as much as it hurt his battered body, it was over. 

Jin let his body relax when Mugen finally cracked his back and stood on spindly legs, ready to depart and fight the woman who had put Jin in such an unfortunate position. While there was a chance Mugen would die, Jin thought it unlikely. Knowing his luck, Mugen would probably outlive him, as the universe seemed determined to keep Jin humble.

Harsh, perhaps, but Jin's entire life had been cruel and unforgiving, and Mugen was just the pinnacle.

And _that_ was a depressing thought, so Jin closed his eyes, pushing away the throbbing pain and tried to get some much-needed rest. No more need to worry about Mugen.

His final mistake of the whole terrible ordeal.

Jin was almost asleep when Mugen backtracked and knelt down by his head, which was even more painful because he was on Jin's hair, but Jin bore it bravely, silently. Mugen looked oddly serious, and Jin was still caught up in the moment between them, as well as fully aware, if he complained, Mugen would probably take offence and try to kill him.

And Jin mostly just wanted to sleep right then.

"Yo, asshole," Mugen said, bowing down, close to his ear.

Jin braced himself for something, closed his eyes and waited it out, but when nothing happened, he opened them again, and Mugen kissed him, quickly, a little awkward.

"Hey, see you later," Mugen said, smacking him on the shoulder.

"Hn," Jin replied, wincing. 

It had been a cheap shot, Jin decided later, catching him unaware.

~~~

Mugen came back, sullen and quiet, and Jin slept the worst of his injury off, waking occasionally to Mugen and Fuu fighting over food, sex and their mutual dislike of the Sunflower Samurai -- Fuu, for obvious reasons, and Mugen, because the whole thing had annoyed him from the beginning. Why Mugen had stuck around, Jin still wasn't sure. Jin wasn't even sure why _he_ had stuck around, just that it had never felt right to leave.

There was also the matter of the kiss, but Jin tried to sleep that off, too.

~~~

A few days later, and Jin decided he was well enough to walk around, and perhaps eat a little rice. In the time it took for him to sit up, Mugen returned to camp with a fistful of freshly caught fish, his mouth twisted in a triumphant smirk. Mugen sat down to watch him struggle, the soles of his dirty feet pressed together, his lips thinned out thoughtfully.

"I can cook for you," Mugen said, finally, still eyeing him.

"There's no need for that," Jin said, dismissively, edging his way upright. He was grateful that, in one of his more lucid moments, he had fought with Fuu over his state of dress. Better if he was naked, she had insisted, blushing, wrapping his bloody wounds and wiping the sweat from his heated skin; he had, between pained gasps of breath, implied she was a bigger pervert than Mugen.

Obviously that was impossible. Mugen was the biggest pervert he knew.

"I can cook for you," Mugen repeated stubbornly, tearing the pot out of his hands.

"No need," Jin gritted out, half in frustration, half in pain. 

Mugen bared his teeth. "Fuck off. I can cook, you four-eyed asshole."

"Fine," Jin said, because it was easier than fighting, and infinitely less awkward.

~~~ 

Jin hadn't really had friends before, so it had taken him a few weeks to recognise Fuu as one, and even longer for Mugen. And while Fuu had not surprised him, because Jin had always gotten along better with women even when not sleeping with them, Mugen had. Jin had never been good with men his own age, and Mugen's roughness offended him.

But practically everything about Mugen offended him. 

Mugen was repulsive, a beast to the right people and a lover to the wrong ones. He masturbated with a frequency that made Jin uncomfortable, because while he had, on occasion, taken matters into his own hand, he had been private about it, but Mugen …

Mugen was devoid of modesty or common courtesy. Mugen chewed like an animal in the presence of highborn women. Mugen had been caught by Fuu, more than once, with his hand down his pants and had refused to apologise, even after Jin reluctantly intervened in the resulting fights. Mugen treated _Fuu_ like an annoying little brother. 

Mugen fought without grace, without control, without purpose.

Mugen had _kissed_ him.

So the fact that Jin considered Mugen a friend disgusted him, but he found himself unable to do anything about it, even though Mugen gave him plenty of chances. Like at night, when Jin's worrisome thoughts kept him up, and Mugen laid sprawled beside him, snoring, unarmed, as relaxed as a child. Jin could have killed him anytime, and hadn't.

~~~

A thought occurred to him.

"Is he planning to kill me?" Jin asked quietly, sitting next to Fuu by the water, trying to catch a fish. Any fish. He didn't care if it was a minnow, barely big enough for a snack. It would be a fish, and that was enough for him. Mugen was nearby, lounging in the sun.

Fuu looked at him like he was crazy then smiled slowly. "Is this a trick question?"

"No," Jin replied, glancing over at Mugen, who had a single hand on his belly, moving in slow, deliberate circles, then quickly looked away when Mugen's mouth twitched knowingly. "Is he … is he planning to kill me before," Jin tugged at his slack line, willing something fish-like, or even gold-like, to bite, "before this … hn … _journey_ … ends?"

"He better not be," Fuu replied, puffing up like an angry blowfish. "Ooh, that jerk!"

"He's not," Jin assured her, catching the sleeve of her kimono before she could jump up and march over to Mugen, whose fingertips had disappeared into the waist of his shorts. 

"Because we have a deal, right?"

"Right," Jin said. 

Fuu's shoulders slumped. "Good." 

"Yes," Jin agreed sanguinely, and went back to his fishing.

~~~ 

There was only one thing Jin knew how to do when something happened that he could not explain: he ignored it. He ignored Mugen much like he ignored his own reasons for aiding Fuu, stumbling across Japan with an empty belly and a vague sense of purpose. 

He also ignored Mugen's coy smiles and the continuing pain in his side, which were very much the same thing in Jin's mind. Mugen was a disease of the worse kind. An attack Jin hadn't seen coming. An assassin of commonsense and a source of unrelenting agony.

Like a freshly sharpened sword in his side, Jin thought, then quickly dismissed the comparison. 

A sword he at least understood. 

~~~

Then, for a second time, Mugen caught him with his guard down.

The first time was understandable. He had been injured almost beyond repair, his wounds burning with the beginnings of an infection, his body battered and bruised and bloody. The second, though, there was no forgiving it, or himself. Jin had spent the good part of a week keeping a measured distance between him and Mugen, even when he was asleep.

 _Especially_ when he was asleep.

"Yo, need any help?" Mugen asked, slipping out of the shadows and causing Jin to jump enough that Mugen saw it. The wide line of his smile glinted in the glow of moonlight. 

Jin, who had only managed to bare one arm before Mugen's interruption, shrugged back into the dirty fabric then gathered the cloth with one hand at his neck. Not that Mugen hadn't already seen him naked, but that had been before, and Jin wasn't chancing it. 

"You coy motherfucker." Mugen leered then ambled down to sit beside him, cross-legged and stripped to the waist, the myriad of pale scars on his chest tinted by shadow. Jin, who bore a number of his own, couldn't help admiring them, counting each mark.

"Let's do it," Mugen said, hooking his fingers into the tiny opening Jin had foolishly left, rough tips scraping over bare skin. It would have been too easy to kill Mugen then, because sex, even the mere _suggestion_ , made Mugen more stupid than he was normally. 

"Do what?" Jin asked, already knowing the answer, but occasionally Mugen could surprise him. Not often, but there had been a few, brief moments when Mugen had almost enlightened Jin; these moments were often immediately wrecked by Mugen.

"I know you've thought about it, homo."

Jin wasn't sure if he was being insulted or not, because the tone in Mugen's voice was almost fond, and it wasn't _Jin_ who was attempting to tear Mugen's clothes off. It wasn't Jin with his hand on Mugen's chest, pressing insistently against the steady thump of his heart. And it definitely wasn't Jin who had kissed Mugen, and wasn't Jin who had even wanted to in the first place. So why Mugen had decided Jin was the gay one, well …

Mugen was either an enigma, or an idiot.

Likely both, Jin thought, but leaning heavily toward the latter.

"Please fuck off," Jin said, very calmly, then stood up and walked away.

~~~

Fuu found him the next morning, sitting as far away from the camp as he could manage without it looking like he was leaving. And though he was tempted, the truth was Jin had nowhere else to go. Years of solitude had conditioned him into embracing stoicism; a few short months of Fuu and Mugen never being more than a village width away had made him forget how to wake up in silence and go through a day without speaking a word.

"Are you okay?"

Jin sighed then shrugged, eyes focussed on the trees and how they swayed in the wind. There had been a time when he could have sat here for hours, for _days_ , contemplating life and his purpose in the world. He would have noticed nothing, and been bothered by nothing. This was before Mugen, of course, and before Fuu. They had ruined it for him.

Jin didn't mind, though. Enlightenment had been overrated. 

Enlightenment might have given him a heads up about Mugen, though.

Jin sighed again.

Fuu seemed to take this as an invitation, so she sat down on her heels, arms hooked around her knees. The wind caught her hair, blowing a few strands free of the knot, and Jin wished, bitterly, that Fuu had been the one to kiss him. She was safe and sweet and nice, and those types of women did not frighten him. Much. She looked over, and smiled. 

"We can ditch him," she said cheerfully. "We'd have less trouble that way."

"He'd find us," Jin replied, fighting against the smile attempting to quirk his lips. And what he really meant was ‘he'd find _me_ ,' but even thinking about saying that embarrassed him. There was no telling, really. Mugen might very well give up, but there was chance that he would follow Jin to the end of his days. Mugen was just stubborn enough to try.

"He was really upset," Fuu said, swaying a little like the trees. There was some emotion he couldn't quite recognise on her face, but it made him extremely uncomfortable. "When we thought you were dead. More than I thought Mugen could be, you know."

"Hn."

"Yeah," Fuu agreed. 

~~~

The third time, Jin had no excuse. 

He had been dreaming of being back at the Dojo, covered in his master's blood yet oddly serene, not at all like the sickening panic he had felt for real. Just him and his swords, his skin painted red in the early morning, doing his exercises around the fallen body. Then someone touched him, a hand on his naked shoulder, and he jolted awake with a gasp.

Mugen, he thought immediately, and it took his eyes a few seconds to form the shape of that idiot's face. Too close for Jin's comfort, but he made no move to push him off. He communicated through the stillness of his body, the rigidity of his limbs. Too subtle for Mugen, though it was more likely that he simply didn't care, didn't even think he should.

Mugen had long, slender fingers, with badly bitten nails and calluses on the tips. Jin had never really noticed them before, but was acutely aware of them now, pressed against his neck. The irony would be that this had not been some drawn out seduction but an elaborate murder plot that made sense only to Mugen. So easy to just crush his throat. 

So easy to end this all right now, with Fuu sleeping soundly half a shack away.

Though Mugen was kidding himself if he thought Jin wouldn't try to take him with him.

But the fingers remained a gentle pressure, just enough to raise the hairs on his skin. Jin had no choice but to look Mugen in the eyes, the span of Mugen's ridiculous hair blocking out everything save for a few phantoms in his periphery. Fuu twisted into a tight ball, and his swords laid out just beyond arm's reach, Mugen's sword beside them.

Jin shifted uncomfortably. Not a bodily discomfort, but spiritual, intellectual. He had thought he knew Mugen, or knew his type, but the more Jin learned about Mugen, the more he realised he was fool. Jin took small solace in the fact that Mugen likely didn't know any more about himself than Jin did, but the fact remained that Mugen was …

Mugen was …

Jin closed his eyes, turning his head away from the steady puff of Mugen's breath. Mugen shifted more fully against him, the heat from his body permeating through the layers on cloth on Jin's body. Erotic in a way that Jin could barely admit to. He _had_ been with men before, other samurai whose strength and control had aroused him, but those men had been few, and enough like him that it hadn't frightened him too much.

Mugen touched him with a gentleness that baffled Jin. None of the usual profanity or lewd gestures, nothing that Jin had grown accustomed to, nothing that Jin could explain. Fingers in his hair, combing through the fine strands, and lips dangerously close to his damp brow. _Kill me_ , Jin thought, staring at the ceiling, because Mugen should have tried. 

That made Jin inexplicably angry, and he shoved Mugen off with a hissed, "get off, idiot," and stood before Mugen could stop him. He noticed immediately that Mugen hadn't even tried, and was grateful for that, because his composure was slipping, cracking, and that embarrassed him deeply. The calm inside him was long gone. 

Mugen had chased it away.

~~~

It was decided.

The next time Mugen tried, Jin would kill him.

~~~

Mugen didn't try again. Whether he had finally gotten a clue or had simply grown bored, Jin was unsure, but three nights later, Mugen took their hard earned money and blew it all on sake and women. Two nights after that, Jin finally found him in an alleyway, slumped against the wall, missing one sandal and snoring loudly. Jin prodded him with his foot. 

"Fuck off," Mugen muttered, grabbing Jin by the ankle and glaring up at him. He looked horrible, the sallow appearance of a man who had spent too many days drinking, gambling and fucking, enjoying a multitude of sins that were never as good in memory.

"Fuu wants to go."

"Tell her she can go without me," Mugen said, stretching his legs out then giving his crotch a thorough scratching. "I'm sick of this shit." Mugen jumped up and leaned into Jin with a vicious grin on his face. "And remember: I'll kill you someday, Samurai."

"You gave her your word."

"My word means shit," Mugen said with a shrug. 

Part of Jin was happy to leave Mugen behind, because he didn't need Mugen, but there was the matter of things like honour and pride and a strange little feeling that Jin could not, and would not, identify. And underneath all that was the childish feeling that if Jin had to go along with Fuu's vague little scheme then Mugen had to, too. It was only fair.

"We leave in an hour," Jin said.

"Whatever," Mugen muttered before turning green and puking all over himself.

~~~

They waited until dusk, but Mugen did not come. At first, Fuu sat patiently, singing an out of tune folk song under her breath, some lullaby Jin almost remembered, but as the sun began to set, she turned her gaze on him, steady, a little accusatory, almost pitying.

A knot grew in Jin's belly, heavy like a rock. 

"Is he coming?" Fuu asked.

"Yes."

Fuu nodded briefly then lay back, sinking into the deep grass. Dusk bled into night, and still Mugen did not come. _Idiot_ , Jin thought, standing at the crossroads, waiting. The wind was warm and light, and the moon was as big as Mugen's irritating head. He looked east then west then back again, a hand on his sword, just in case, ready, eager.

But Mugen did not come. 

Fuu moved suddenly, curling into a tight pink ball of flowery fabric. She sighed slightly, wistfully, but did not wake up. Jin watched her for a long time, and could not imagine walking away from her, from this life she had created for him, and for Mugen. 

If Mugen could, Jin would kill him. 

For that reason alone, Jin would kill him.

~~~

Jin was stuck at that crossroads, reluctant to wake Fuu but completely against leaving her alone on the side of the road. Not all criminals were as honourable as Mugen, who had never laid a hand on her, contrary to his own feeble threats. Sometimes, Jin wondered if Fuu truly understood the type of men who walked faithfully at her side.

With a sigh, he took his hand off his sword and walked to the nearest tree. He curled his fingers against the rough bark, body turned away from Fuu, eyes never straying. Now in the complete dead of night, the air had cooled, crisp against his bare skin as he pissed. 

It was the wind that told him.

His sword was out so quickly he risked castration, blocking Mugen's blade. The force of their collision moved Jin back, his heels skidding in the damp grass. The moon caught the gleam of Mugen's grin, the blade of his ridiculous sword, the shocking whites of his eyes.

Jin lunged toward him, ignoring his own embarrassing state of undress, angry. Mugen was there again, stopping him, fighting back. Slippery like an eel, which only infuriated Jin further. Jin was not an angry man, but an empty one, carefully controlled at all times. There was emotion in him -- Jin knew it -- but that Mugen should be the one to dig it out.

That Mugen, of all people …

Fucking _Mugen_.

"Got you," Mugen said, leering, as he dropped his sword and fisted his hands in the fabric at Jin's throat. Jin's head cracked like lightning against the tree, star bursting behind his eyelids, and then Mugen was there, up in his face, grinning, kissing him.

Jin did the only thing he could think to do: he kissed Mugen back.

"Fuck, yeah," Mugen muttered, feeling Jin's acquiescence, obviously revelling in it. That annoyed him, but the damage was done, and Jin was a man of his word. No longer able to pretend this was entirely one-sided, Mugen would never let him live it down.

Jin was mostly okay with that. Not comfortable, but able to live with his decision.

Able to let Mugen live with it, too.

~~~ 

Sex had never been an easy thing for Jin. 

For a long time, he had assumed something was broken in him, something primal and male, a fact that had embarrassed him and, mostly likely, hampered him further. Mugen had done nothing to dissuade him of this notion; he had slept with more women in the time Jin had known him than Jin had even _thought_ about sleeping with in his entire life. 

Mugen's hands were rough and hard. His fingers, skilled to the point of lewdness. Their kisses desperate, hurried, as if Fuu would wake up at any moment and see her precious companions fornicating like animals. Though Jin suspected that would only spur Mugen on, he did not want to tempt Fuu's apparent virginity or risk his own embarrassment.

Everything Jin expected, Mugen did not do. Did not speak, or laugh, or even grin in that idiotic Mugen way. Did not mock him for his obvious clumsiness. Did not force him onto his belly, bully his way inside and secure his manhood. This was not, Jin realised as Mugen stroked his hands over Jin's ribs and belly, a battle to be won, a war to be fought.

Though that was not to say Mugen was patient or undemanding or even understanding.

It took Mugen ten seconds to get them to a level of nakedness that satisfied him. Mugen, without his shirt and his shorts pushed down to his thighs; Jin, just as Mugen had found him, cock dangling in the wind. Then Mugen was surging against him, grabbing every inch of exposed skin, kissing at Jin's neck, over his face, then his lips, his mouth.

Mugen was like a tidal wave, a storm, but Jin, instead of being washed away, remained a stone, withstanding Mugen's erratic energy and single-minded determination. Jin bit his tongue when Mugen dropped to his knees, his calloused fingers digging into Jin's hips. 

And then Mugen …

"Hn," Jin said, surprised, and he felt Mugen grin around his cock.

~~~

Later, they sat together in the damp grass, shoulder to shoulder. The taste of Mugen was still on his tongue, bitter but not unwelcome. Mugen, to his credit, had not said anything, and Jin could not decipher the expression on his face, but his eyes were calm and bright.

Jin didn't ask for explanations, if simply because he was sure Mugen couldn't provide them. Mugen was an animal of instinct, unpredictable, driven by bodily desires, by needs. But Mugen did nothing he did not want to do, and that was enough for Jin.

Fuu woke up then, stretching in all directions. Mugen ignored her, but Jin looked over.

Her eyes flickered between them, perceiving the change, though Jin knew nothing was out of place, Mugen, as shabby as always, Jin, impeccably neat. No outward difference, but inside, Jin felt it profoundly. The violence in him was sleeping again, replaced by something peaceful, something calm. And if Mugen felt the same, well, Jin didn't know.

"Ready to go?" Fuu asked hopefully, brushing the grass off her kimono.

Mugen jumped to his feet. "Hell, yeah. I've been waiting for you fuckers for hours."

"You have not," Fuu said, glaring. "And we're broke again because of you!"

Jin did not catch Mugen's retort, if he even made one. It was lost to the wind as Fuu and Mugen walked on ahead, bickering, Fuu trying to smack Mugen, Mugen deftly evading her hands. It almost felt like nothing had happened at all, no kiss, no fucking, nothing.

But then Mugen looked at him, grinning, and made a lewd gesture that set Fuu off again.

Jin sighed. 

~~~

The fourth time, Jin let it happen.


End file.
